


i will never be your problem, i will never be to blame

by orphan_account



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gay Porn Hard, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Shotgunning, playoff angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:23:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "There are things that Patrick knows about Jonny that are for him and him only; like how Jonny looks when he first wakes up in the morning, how he wont kiss Pat until he’s brushed his teeth, the way he takes his coffee, the way he falls apart completely when Pat gets his tongue in Jonny’s ass. Things like that. Patrick’s all about compartmentalizing."





	i will never be your problem, i will never be to blame

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with a fic written while half asleep. I did try but I could've tried harder.  
> Written for the4freedoms' Gay Porn Hard  
> title from Patrick Stump's song "Mad at Nothing"

Patrick knows a lot about Jonny. Of course he does - they’re on the same team. There are some things he needs to know, like what makes Jonny angry, what makes him tick; knowing those things has - for the most part - helped keep Patrick in Jonny’s good graces for the better part of a decade. Helped the team operate more efficiently.  
  
But there are things that Patrick knows about Jonny that are for him and him only; like how Jonny looks when he first wakes up in the morning, how he wont kiss Pat until he’s brushed his teeth, the way he takes his coffee, the way he falls apart completely when Pat gets his tongue in Jonny’s ass. Things like that. Patrick’s all about compartmentalizing.  
  
Right now, he knows Jonny’s angry. Knows it for a fact because he is, too; they all are. Angry and embarrassed after being practically booed off the ice at home following another shut out by Nashville. It’s not even unjustified, they’re better than that. The fans deserve better than that.  
  
Jonny’s got that look in his eye, and he’s undoubtedly giving himself a headache if the visible, throbbing vein on his forehead is anything to go by. Patrick can’t have that.  
  
“Unclench, Jonny.” he says in passing, then softer, “Come back to mine?”  
Jonny nods brusquely and Pat nods back before heading towards the showers.  
  
**  
  
About an hour later they’re standing in Patrick’s bedroom, Jonny shifting from foot to foot like he hasn’t been there a million times, like he doesn’t practically live there.  
  
“Spit it out Jonny, what?” Patrick asks, not unkindly.  
  
He’s preparing himself for another “We Need To Be Better” speech, but when Jonny looks up at him he looks a little broken and lost, mouth opening and closing like the words wont come out. It breaks Pat’s heart.  
  
It’s then that Patrick gets an idea, “I have an idea!” he says, maybe too enthusiastically. Jonny raises his eyebrows in question but Pat just waves a vague hand in his general direction before going to his closet. He rummages around for a couple of seconds before emerging with a shoe box.  
  
“Patrick, I don’t see how your Yeezy’s are going to help with--” but Patrick cuts him off.  
  
“There are no shoes in this box, Jonny” he says conspiratorially, pulling out the plastic baggy. Grinning at Jonny he asks, “Yeah?”  
  
Jonny hesitates for a second before grinning back. “Hell yeah.”  
  
**  
  
It’s good weed, is the thing. Grade A. Patrick’s feeling relaxed as he and Jonny lay next to each other, propped against his headboard, passing a joint between them.  
  
Jonny looks relaxed, too. He looks good, Pat thinks, and then says and Jonny smiles.  
  
Pat rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He takes a deep, slow hit from the joint, waiting for Jonny to drop his jaw open for Pat to exhale into. Pat breathes out, letting clouds of smoke blow over Jonny’s face, into his mouth. Jonny sucks it in, holds for a few seconds before exhaling into the space between them.  
  
Pat kisses him then.  
  
Jonny melts with it, going practically boneless underneath him. Pat kisses him so slow, one hand carding through Jonny’s hair.  
  
He pulls back for breath and hands Jonny the still lit joint. Jonny obliges, taking another hit. He holds his mouth shut though, and motions Pat closer until their lips are connected again. When they part, Jonny’s grinning at him stupidly as he rubs himself against Pat’s thigh, and Patrick has never been more in love. He’d be content staying here forever, wrapped in a cloud of smoke and Jonny.  
  
He slides his hands down to the waistband of Jonny’s sweats, just playing with it, leaving wet kisses across Jonny’s neck, his collarbone, as Jonny tries not to fuck into his hand. Patrick takes his time before reaching into the sweats and taking Jonny’s cock in his hand. Jonny twitches and gasps, air leaving his lungs like he was punched, as Patrick strokes him steadily, just feeling the thick, warm weight of him.  
  
Eventually, he pulls his hand back, dragging Jonny’s pants down and patting his thigh. “Turn over.” he says and Jonny does without hesitation, thighs parted, ass in the air.  
  
Pat whistles appreciatively, allowing himself a second to just _look_ before taking his own pants off.  
  
Jonny’s grumbly and impatient before him, like he’s been waiting for hours rather than mere seconds and Pat snorts before grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer.  
  
He still takes his time, kissing his way down Jonny’s shoulders to his back, _God_ , his back, and lower and lower. Jonny’s making these noises beneath him, these little whimpers every time Pat inches lower, and God, he wants to wreck him.  
  
Patrick’s done wasting time now, he’s quick to get his tongue in Jonny’s ass, flattening and twisting it, drawing louder and louder moans out of Jonny. He’s unforgiving in his movements, almost punishing with the way he grips and kneads Jonny’s thighs, his ass, making Jonny cry out.  
  
“Fuck, Pat,” Jonny nearly sobs. He’s writhing now, muscles trembling, voice breathy and high.  
  
Pat brings one hand up to add two fingers to the movement of his mouth. Jonny jerks like he’s been shocked, crying out roughly.  
  
Patrick’s dick twitches. “I want you to come like this.” he tells Jonny.  
  
“God, Pat, I will, I’m gonna, please don’t stop, don’t fucking-” he cuts himself off with a groan, toes curling. He’s fucking himself back against Patrick’s hand and tongue, body practically vibrating with how hard he’s shaking.  
  
Pat’s got him strung out, playing his body like an instrument. He thinks “come” and Jonny does, arching into the mattress, crying out like it hurt.  
  
Patrick pulls away but keeps his fingers inside Jonny until his breath evens out and he’s stopped twitching.  
  
He rolls Jonny over to find that he’s still hard, of course he is the fucking overachiever, before leaning down to kiss him, soft and wet. The kiss heats up pretty fast and that has Patrick fumbling for the lube, slicking himself up and Jonny guiding him inside, both of them moaning in tandem.  
  
Pat finds his rhythm pretty quickly, feeling the familiar pleasure of the squeeze of Jonny’s insides like he was made to be here.  
  
He can’t help it, he kisses Jonny again. It takes Jonny’s mouth a second to get with the program, but by that time Pat’s pulling away, hands gripping Jonny’s hips so he can pull him into his lap as he sits back. He grabs one of Jonny’s legs, hauling it over his shoulder and Jonny nearly screams at the change of angle.  
  
His thrusts are hard, precise. Getting Jonny just the way he likes and Pat’s reminded how good he is at this, at making Jonny feel good.  
  
Jonny looks fucked out beneath him. Hair a mess, plastered to his forehead, pupils wide, chest heaving like he can’t catch his breath. His eyes are wet, and Patrick’s pretty sure he’s drooling, too.  
  
It’s not the first time Patrick’s seen him like this. It happens sometimes, when Jonny’s too sensitive and overwhelmed; he’s not crying, not exactly. Just leaking.  
  
Patrick reaches a hand down to fist Jonny’s cock which is just as wet as the rest of him. Jonny sobs like he can’t take it, trembling hands fisting the white sheets below him.  
  
“Come on, baby. Do it, let go for me, Jonny.”  
  
Jonny’s breath catches, there’s a beat, then two, and he obeys.  
  
His nails are digging into Pat’s skin hard enough to draw blood and the tears are flowing freely down his face now. Jonny’s body is drawn tight, spasming with such an intense violence it looks almost painful. It wracks his body for a long time.  
  
“Love you.” Jonny pants when he can find his breath. “Love you, love you, love you.”  
  
Patrick follows him over the edge not long after, letting out a sob that would be embarrassing if he could care about anything other than the sharp punch of pleasure working through him.  
  
It takes them both a while to come down after that.  
  
**  
  
Patrick dozes as the high wears off. He’d get something to eat if he wasn’t so comfortable in Jonny’s arms.  
  
“So,” Jonny starts. When he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds Pat cracks one eye open.  
  
“So...” he prompts.  
  
“We sucked tonight.” Jonny says, serious as ever.  
  
Patrick groans and literally kicks him out of bed, ignoring Jonny’s outraged squawk. Fucker deserved it anyway.

  
Fin.  


**Author's Note:**

> that is all folks. hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/nhlmisha) or [tumblr](http://psharp.tumblr.com) if you want.  
> comments and critiques are very much appreciated !


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